


My love is a fever, longing still

by Neurotoxia



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Gen, Introspection, M/M, Pre-Canon, Turning Back The Pendulum, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 15:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurotoxia/pseuds/Neurotoxia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiba Kaien was everything Kuchiki Byakuya was not -- it should be easy to dislike him. However, the Kuchiki heir always seemed to gravitate towards the path of highest resistance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My love is a fever, longing still

**Author's Note:**

  * For [penombrelilas (crookedspoon)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/gifts).



> Phew, this was hard work. The ways I push myself for you, penombrelilas. I hope it's alright that it didn't exactly turn out to be the gen piece you wanted, but the two boys kept moving into that direction. I console myself with the knowledge that you always keep an open mind and that you'll be delighted to whip this thing into shape later.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you still enjoy <3

  
_My love is a fever, longing still_  
 _For that which longer nurseth the disease,_  
 _Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill_ ,  
 _Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please._  
 _My reason, the physician to my love,_  
 _Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,_  
 _Hath left me, and I desperate now approve_  
 _Desire is death, which physic did except._  
  
\-- William Shakespeare (Sonnet CXLVII)

“Nii-sama, I...” Rukia said, unable to regain her composure enough to form a full sentence.

“Nii-sama, I...” Rukia said, unable to regain her composure enough to form a full sentence.

Not that Byakuya needed to hear her say it. He had already heard. Ukitake-taichou had come to see him, clearly in distress, and informed him of the evening’s events. Of Shiba-fukutaichou’s encounter with the hollow. Of Rukia’s dilemma, having to choose between her own life and Shiba Kaien’s. Rukia had killed her vice-captain -- had had to kill him.

Rukia knelt in front of him on the tatami, shivering to the point of shaking. She tried hard not to break down. Were they not in the positions they were in, Byakuya might have been able to offer some type of comfort, or at least try to. But he was the clan leader, he had to adhere to proper conduct. Still, he wasn’t sure he could have said anything, even without protocol hindering him. 

For all his eloquence, words would have failed him this time.

If Byakuya’s hand shook slightly as he finished the last stroke on the kanji for gi (義) -- honour, loyalty -- he didn’t acknowledge it. Neither did Rukia.

* * *

Shiba Kaien didn’t like him. The feeling was mutual.

The Thirteenth Division vice-captain scowled at Byakuya as if to make him responsible for Ukitake-taichou’s illness and thus to Ukitake asking Shiba Kaien to fill in and train the Kuchiki heir.

Byakuya would rather tell Shiba-fukutaichou that he would like to reschedule the training until Ukitake felt better but it would be terribly rude. Ukitake had arranged for Shiba to take over, and to spurn his efforts and second-in-command would be disrespectful. 

Shiba Kaien was considered a prodigy; powerful, and skilled in battle, and based on what Byakuya had seen of him fighting, he was inclined to agree. The young vice-captain had mastered Shinou Academy in near record time -- which wasn’t a feat easily achieved. Still, Byakuya wouldn’t be excited to spar with him. It was Shiba’s casual, happy-go-lucky attitude that grated on his nerves every time he came into contact with him. The familiarity he bestowed upon his victims, whether they wanted to or not.

“Don’t look so excited, Kuchiki,” Shiba snorted from across the room.

“It’s not ‘Kuchiki’,” Byakuya hissed, narrowing his eyes at the other.

“I apologise, Kuchiki- _denka_.” Sarcasm was dripping from his words.

Byakuya ground his teeth to avoid saying anything that would end with him stooping to Shiba’s level. He would make the man eat his words during sparring.

*-*-*

He had lost. He had really lost. To Shiba Kaien.

Byakuya could hardly believe it. He was drenched in sweat, a few errant strands that had come loose from the ponytail sticking to his face. And he was actually panting -- when was the last time he had been this out of breath?

Granted, Shiba was breathing hard and sweating as well, but he did look much more composed than Byakuya felt. And he had beaten him. Shiba Kaien had his _bokken_ at Byakuya’s throat -- in a real fight, Byakuya would have had his windpipe crushed or quite literally lost his head.

And he still wasn’t sure how the other had broken through his defenses.

“You look like you bit into a lemon, Kuchiki. Perk up, that was excellent. Can’t remember when I last had to work this hard to beat someone below vic-captain level.” Shiba Kaien flashed his brightest smile and flopped down onto the grass. Byakuya was only frowning harder.

“Not used to losing, huh?”

He wasn’t. But he certainly wouldn’t admit that to Shiba’s face. 

How _had_ he lost?

“You gave me too many openings above shoulder level. Your defense is too focussed on your torso,” Shiba explained as if he had read the question on Byakuya’s face. “I bet Ukitake-taichou told you that before.”

The bad thing was, Ukitake-taichou _had_ said it before. He had called it one of Byakuya’s bad habits. If not only Ukitake-taichou, but his vice-captain noticed, the enemy might, too. Byakuya clenched his fist around the _bokken_ , irritated at the simplistic mistakes he still made. Grandfather demanded excellence, not carelessness that could lead to his head cut off in his first true battle.

“Go easy on that scowl, mate,” Kaien said and raised an eyebrow. “Still plenty of time to fix the mistake before you enter the Gotei.”

“It’s not ‘mate’,” Byakuya growled and raised his bokken again.

Kaien only grinned and launched into shunpo.

* * *

The gash was nasty. Blood was soaking through his _uwagi_ , blossoming on the white material. Nejibana’s sharp edge had caught him square across the chest.

Too slow. He had been way too slow. Today really wasn’t his day.

“What the hell are you doing? I could have killed you!” Shiba Kaien looked irritated as he let Nejibana dematerialise back into sword shape.

“I apologise,” Byakuya muttered and picked up the solidified Senbonzakura. He had lost concentration when Kaien had cut him.

If Kaien hadn’t redirected Nejibana at the last second, he would have speared Byakuya with nearly full force. He only sparred all out with Byakuya because he could rely on the other not to make basic mistakes. Usually.

“Just don’t do that again,” Kaien said and grabbed the satchel he had brought with him. “I think Kuchiki-taichou will dispose of me himself if I accidentally skewer his grandson.”

Despite himself, Byakuya let out a quiet chuckle. “I agree.”

“All right, strip!” Kaien commanded and Byakuya’s mouth went dry.

He wasn’t shy about taking his clothes off in front of others -- there was a plethora of servants at Kuchiki manor, most of which had been involved in his dressing or bathing him at some point in his life -- but in front of Shiba Kaien, he fought hard not to blush.

Byakuya had been noticing this for weeks. Ukitake-taichou was battling another bout of illness, rendering him unable to do anything more strenuous than lifting a cup of tea. It had left Byakuya with several sparring sessions with Ukitake’s vice-captain -- which he didn’t mind as much anymore, as long as Shiba wasn’t being overly familiar. The other was actually able to teach him something; Byakuya had found respect for Shiba-fukutaichou’s abilities among other, more confusing feelings. And he was still looking for a way to quell these occasional desires before they could become any more pronounced.

The other didn’t make it easy, though. Shiba Kaien’s behaviour had undergone a few changes: less teasing, more genuine kindness and respect. He offered to share tea and _onigiri_ during the breaks from training. Sometimes, Byakuya accepted the offer and enjoyed bites of rice and _umeboshi_ or _kimchi_ sitting in the high grass next to Kaien, shoulders almost touching.

“Are you waiting for me to undress you? I only do that in the bedroom, I’m afraid,” Kaien said and smirked.

Byakuya’s face turned an even brighter shade of red and he hastily removed his _uwagi_ , berating himself for feeling so flustered. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he murmured without looking Kaien in the eye.

The cut across his left pectoral was long and deep, the edges gaping open and smeared with blood. It stung and burned, although not horribly. The sharpness of the blade made the cut on his skin hurt less, although pain was building up underneath. Byakuya suspected that Nejibana might have severed the muscle. 

“Looks nasty. Sorry about that,” Kaien said and focussed his kidou. “I can only staunch the blood flow a bit, I’m rubbish at healing. You better go and see a healer later.”

Byakuya licked his lips and cleared his throat while trying not to focus too much on the hand hovering mere inches from his chest. “It was my own fault. I will consult the clan healer.”

“Good.”

The blood flow slowed considerably under Kaien’s healing spell and while it didn’t stop entirely, it looked less troubling. As the other’s fingers cleaned the wound and dressed it with surprising care and dexterity for a rather unrefined soldier, Byakuya stared at the branch of a tree with as much determination as he could muster, willing his blush to go away.

It was embarrassing. He behaved like a virgin maiden, not the future leader of Seireitei’s most powerful noble clan. The whole display was unbecoming. And why did his heart beat so fast?

Said heart leapt in his throat when he noticed that Kaien’s fingertips lingered, moved even -- barely noticeable, but still.

He didn’t dare swallow past the lump where his heart alternated between frozen in shock and racing with uncertainty. Staring at the branch was no longer an option; he had to watch, if only to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

Kaien looked more serious than usual, only a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth and his eyes bright and trained on him. Byakuya felt like a rabbit hypnotised by a snake, like an insect pinned onto a board with a large needle. Moving was beyond him. 

The fingertips trailed up to his shoulders, moving towards the column of his throat. It seemed to take forever, though being realistic, it was likely seconds. They eventually reached his jawline and halted, body warmth making his skin tingle. Without Byakuya noticing, Kaien had moved closer, their lips separated by a finger’s width. Byakuya could feel the ghost of Kaien’s breath on his face. Only an inclination of the head away from doing what Byakuya knew was a spectacularly bad idea. 

And yet, he didn’t want to stop it.

“Kaien-fukutaichou!” A voice called from afar, breaking the spell they were under. Byakuya’s eyes widened and he drew back immediately, pulling up his uwagi with a swift move. If he were the type, he would groan. Interrupted at the last second as if they lived in a cheap love drama.

A member of the Thirteenth Division came running up the hill, red-faced and out of breath. Not very capable with shunpo, he had to run most of the way, Byakuya’s subconscious supplied. His heart still raced, though this time out of fear of having been seen. The shinigami didn’t make the impression as if he had witnessed anything untoward. 

“What is it?” Kaien asked, and Byakuya admired the composure in his voice. His own had taken a leave of absence and he was glad he didn’t have to speak. 

“Ukitake-taichou...emergency. He...was transported to the Fourth...” The other shinigami panted.

“Shit,” Kaien cursed, a look of grave worry on his face. Byakuya shared the sentiment; he immensely respected Ukitake, who had been fighting illness for as long as Byakuya could remember. Much like his father, who had spent the last week in bed with puzzled clan healers by his side. Ukitake was often fine with a few days of rest and minimal medical care. It rarely became bad enough that he needed to go to the Fourth Division.

As Kaien launched into shunpo, Byakuya hesitated no longer than a few heartbeats before following.

* * *

Byakuya rested in the mansion’s hot springs and wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. A rare sentiment for him.

He could try and drown himself?

No, the servants would notice before he had the chance to succeed. How unfortunate. Why had he made such an idiot of himself? On the Seireitei New Year’s celebrations of all events.

He shouldn’t drink. He really, really shouldn’t.

The memories were hazy. Byakuya would have preferred not to remember anything at all, but he hadn’t drunk _enough_ for that. Usually, Byakuya didn’t consume much alcohol, but during those celebrations, everybody wanted to share a cup of sake with the current and the future leader of the Kuchiki clan -- and Byakuya couldn’t refuse those requests. The political circus was going to be part of his life: chess games of power and influence, alliances, quid pro quos. Preferably he should be the one that made others jump through hoops, so he needed to connect with the powerful early.

The captains and vice-captains were invited as well, Kyouraku-taichou the very first to be rather drunk and Ukitake-taichou following him around to minimise the damage. Grandfather had once warned him not to be deceived by Kyouraku Shunsui’s laid-back attitude and the drinking, as he could be proficient and extremely dangerous if he chose to. On these occasions though, Byakuya still struggled to take him seriously.

Kaien accompanied Ukitake-taichou, who was now drinking with Byakuya’s grandfather. Byakuya couldn’t refuse Ukitake’s offer of warm sake, although he already felt more than tipsy. And warm sake always went straight to his head.

Afterwards, the memories began to swim together, blacked out in some places, vivid in others. A bright mess of images. Byakuya had pierced together and reconstructed most of it, but he would have liked to discard it straight away.. 

He remembered excusing himself, feeling the full force of the warm alcohol and wanting to get home before he started behaving like a drunkard. It would be embarrassing. At the exit, Kaien had caught up with him, probably offering to accompany him to make sure he arrived at home all right. Byakuya couldn’t remember why Kaien had come along, but it would fit his personality to offer assistance.

He remembered walking along one of the paths, but the memories eluded him and the next thing he could recall was being pressed against a tree, warm lips on his and a hand under his clothes. 

They had danced around each other for so long, sharing glances but never acting. The alcohol had finally lowered their inhibitions and made them reckless. Byakuya still felt the stark contrast of a warm body and the biting chill of January outside.

There was a mingle of lips, teeth and hands imprinted on Byakuya’s memory. And there was sheer terror, the thing that had left Byakuya absolutely mortified.

Kyouraku-taichou had stumbled upon them, a silly grin plastered to his face, sake bottle in the one hand, his hat in the other. He was singing an old folk song but stopped at the sight of the two huddled shinigami under the tree.

“My, my...you youngsters sure know how to sound the bell for the new year!” he laughed and raised his bottle of sake.

Even Kaien looked somewhat horrified. Byakuya did the only thing he could think of and fled. After that, the memories became fuzzy again. He didn’t remember how he had arrived home or got into bed.

Byakuya let the towel fall over his face, sinking lower in the hot springs. He hadn’t seen his grandfather yet, so he was still in the dark about whether or not word had reached Ginrei. Or if word had got out in the first place.

He could only hope that Kyouraku-taichou had been too drunk to remember their encounter or that Byakuya had imagined the whole thing. Although the first seemed like the more likely option. The memories were too vivid to be a figment of his imagination.

He couldn’t keep doing these things, Byakuya thought and let his head fall back, still contemplating drowning himself.

* * *

“Such a shame,” Kaien sighed and twirled a few strands of Byakuya’s hair between his fingers.

“It’s tradition,” Byakuya bristled and tugged the long strand out of Kaien’s hand. The man had a worrying attachment to Byakuya’s hair.

“Still,” Kaien smiled and shrugged. He knew better than to argue with Byakuya about tradition. Kaien was well aware of noble rituals; he’d lived them, although he didn’t bother with them. Not anymore and probably not before either. 

Kaien hummed a tune under his breath, no doubt something he picked up in an izakaya somewhere. He often loitered in them, drinking with his comrades after duty; a hobby Byakuya couldn’t relate to. As it was so often the case with the Shiba. 

Tomorrow, Byakuya would enter the ranks of the Sixth Division as the new vice-captain under his grandfather’s command. Since the death of Byakuya’s father, the seat had remained empty, Kuchiki Ginrei wanting to wait until his grandson had completed his training so he could support the division the way a Kuchiki was supposed to. But nothing had gone the way it was supposed to.

Byakuya should have entered the Sixth now to serve under his father, who should have long since acted as a captain. His father had never made it to captain, his health too fragile and his powers thus affected. He shouldn’t have served in the military at all, by any standard, but it was a Kuchiki heir’s duty to do so. The inability to achieve captaincy had already tarnished his reputation. Byakuya didn’t question the inner workings of the clan too often anymore, but he still remembered the fierce anger that had welled up in him whenever other clan members had spoken ill about his father.

Sometimes, he missed his father. It was a childish thought -- Byakuya chided himself for falling back into nostalgia.

His thoughts were disrupted by fingers trailing along his naked spine, tracing the outlines of the vertebrae with a light touch.

“You were spacing out for a moment there,” Kaien chuckled behind him.

“I did no such thing,” Byakuya muttered, throwing the sheets aside and stalking over to his yukata which he had hastily discarded earlier that evening. Below lay the _wakizashi_ he had brought with him. An ancient clan heirloom from the first leader of the Kuchikis. 

Byakuya grabbed the sword and moved to the mirror in his quarters. The two lamps cast the room in a soft orange glow, spilling over the tatami and furniture, causing shadows to fall over Byakuya’s face. Outside, a wind chime jingled softly in the breeze of an early summer night, weaving together with the distant voices of the odd Shinigami passing by the grounds.

Meeting on the property was risky; Kaien had to sneak in and out without being seen. And yet, it was the best place -- they couldn’t possibly meet on the division grounds, neither on the Shiba property in Rukongai with Kaien’s younger siblings milling about. And he wouldn’t lower himself to renting _ryokan_ rooms for a few hours in some remote district of the Rukongai as if he were courting a cheap prostitute and couldn’t be seen with them.

Not that he could be seen with Kaien. His future position in the clan made it impossible -- that, and the Shiba clan wasn’t held in high regard by his family anymore. Years ago, Byakuya would have rebelled against the circumstances with all his might, but that had been with his father still alive. Ever since his death, he had become quieter, held himself back. 

He wrapped his hand around his hair -- it was long enough to tumble down his back, almost falling to the tailbone. Usually, he wore it in a high ponytail, but its hairband was the one item most prone to theft; either by Kaien or that infernal Shihouin woman.

Byakuya contemplated the long strands of ink black hair -- cutting it was a rite of passage for Kuchiki men entering the military, signifying the beginning of a new chapter in their life. Usually done by one’s father, Byakuya had decided he would simply do it himself. Having his grandfather do it was dangerous, sentimental territory. Kuchiki Ginrei resorted to stony silence and piercing gazes whenever his son came up. The Ginrei-version of a pained expression.

As Byakuya unsheathed the wakizashi, he caught Kaien’s interested eyes in the mirror. The other was propped up on his elbows, sheets bunched around his hips and his upper body peppered with a few select nips and bites. Sometimes, Byakuya thought he ought to be embarrassed by his lack of restraint. Kaien never left such marks on him.

_I can always say I met a girl at the izakaya. You’d have more trouble explaining love bites_ , Kaien would always laugh when Byakuya became too ashamed of his behaviour, waving away any worries about their affair being uncovered.

Byakuya shook his head to clear his mind. His father used to say that he spent far too much time in his own head when he wasn’t being defiant at the top of his lungs. Byakuya remembered that Kuchiki Soujun had sounded far more amused by this than he was supposed to. He had had a kind and gentle nature, had got away with it even in the stern Kuchiki clan because Soujun had worked hard, despite his poor health and without ever complaining. In the end, it had killed him -- much too early, just like Byakuya’s mother.

Byakuya couldn’t say that he missed his mother; he barely remembered her. But he wished his father could see him advancing to vice-captain tomorrow.

Releasing a quiet breath, Byakuya pulled his hair tight and lifted the _wakizashi_ up to his shoulders, the blade just barely touching the long tresses. A few hairs came in contact with the sharpened steel and fell away to the floor. He felt nervous, his heart rate picked up -- it was only a symbolic step, and yet he felt oddly hesitant.

*-*-*

“Kuchiki-sama, are you awake?” Came a voice outside the _shoji_ doors and Byakuya startled awake, heart hammering in his chest.

He felt disoriented and looked around. It was mostly dark in the room, impending dawn shedding just enough light to recognise the shapes of furniture. The chirping of early morning birds was the only detectable sound, besides Byakuya’s own harsh breaths. 

What had happened...? Hadn’t he just been sitting in front of the mirror with...

Byakuya clenched a fist in the sheets that had wound around his body during the night, enveloping him in a mock embrace. Closing his eyes, he let his head hang for a moment, long strands of hair falling over his shoulders to the front and framing his face. Next to the futon, the _wakizashi_ rested on its stand.

“Kuchiki-sama?” The servant called again. “The vice-captain ceremony will start in only a few hours.”

“I’m awake. Go and fetch some tea,” Byakuya replied, eyes still closed as the servant rose to his feet to get a cup of tea. It would give him a few minutes to do what he should have done the night before.

He tossed the bedclothes aside, seizing the sword by the hilt hard enough to make the slight tremor stop.

* * *

When rumours started to go around that Shiba Kaien went out with the Thirteenth Division’s eighth’s seat, Byakuya ignored it. 

When the announcement came through that Shiba Kaien would marry the by then third seat, Byakuya tried to ignore it as well. It was none of his concern, after all. Still, the dull ache residing in his chest refused to go away, no matter how hard he tried to remove it. Byakuya chided himself for his childish behaviour. 

Why couldn’t he just overcome the confusing feelings that had been haunting him for far longer than what seemed acceptable even when one took his youth into consideration. A juvenile infatuation he just couldn’t seem to shake off. An infatuation born from the friendly treatment he had received. Shiba Kaien didn’t care who he was. It irritated Byakuya, but it was refreshing at the same time. Nearly everyone treated him with either kid gloves or fell over themselves in awe. 

Byakuya insisted that he be treated with respect, but he hated the spineless behaviour he so often encountered. Shiba might often ignore the respectful part, but at least he wasn’t cowering like a mindless drone. 

Still, he wanted the confusion to go away and it didn’t. Not even with the distance he had put between them. He didn’t go out drinking or doing some such drivel with the other vice-captains; in fact he barely socialised beyond absolute necessity (and couldn’t care less if they called him ‘ice princess’ for it). He didn’t train with Kaien anymore, as the stage where the other could still teach him anything new had long since passed.

Any sort of relationship, had they ever embarked upon one, would have been doomed from the start. The clan would have been up in arms. Kaien was a shunned noble, and male on top of it. Two male partners couldn’t create progeny. Commoners shouldn’t be mixed into noble clans. Everything would have been against them.

It should be easy to divorce himself from those feelings.

He received an invitation to the wedding and declined, citing clan business and sending his well-wishes via messenger on official Kuchiki stationary. He found his cowardice distasteful. Not that he had any desire to attend a wedding in general. Noble weddings were long-winded, formal successions of traditions in a political staging and weddings amongst commoners were often loud, chaotic and filled with too much alcohol. Neither option was to his liking, but while Byakuya couldn’t escape important noble weddings that required his presence, he would stay away from all others. 

It was logical for Kaien to marry that woman. Miyako, if he recalled her name correctly, was intelligent and kind. From what he had heard, she was a capable soldier as well. Kaien had chosen the best option. The strange tension between him and Kaien didn’t serve anyone well. Kaien had moved on to better prospects. 

He should be relieved.

Maybe now he had a chance as well; maybe finding someone to actually share his life with wasn’t out of reach. If not, the clan surely had a number of potential brides all lined up. He wouldn’t be alone. And if he was lucky, he wouldn’t be lonely, either.

Then he met Hisana.

* * *

Captain. Byakuya had reached what he had been trained for. Clan leader and captain of the Sixth Division. He should be proud.

In all honesty, Byakuya couldn’t find much in him to celebrate. 

He was one of the youngest to achieve clan leadership and captaincy and yet on his worst days, he felt older and more tired than any other Shinigami. 

Hisana was gone, and while he had found her sister, he couldn’t bear looking at the girl that resembled Hisana so much. He kept Rukia at arm’s length, seeing her long for his approval made it worse. It would be so much easier to shut her out if she simply despised him. Byakuya didn’t even know how he earned her admiration and he wished he could do something to make himself feel deserving of it.

A year had passed, and he still missed Hisana. She had been the only true companion he had ever had and she was taken from him after a mere five years, most of which she spent in bed or searching for her sister. At times, Byakuya had been reminded of his father: he too was too determined to slow down.

Byakuya was still surprised the clan hadn’t been too obviously delighted by Hisana’s early demise since they had fought him with all their might to obstruct the marriage. Without success; no doubt they were still relieved that Hisana had met an early end. A commoner from Inuzuri mixed into the noble Kuchiki clan was a nightmare for some of them. No surprise many were harsh on Rukia.

Rukia’s adoption had been the last defiance. A heated one. If the clan had had any alternative, they possibly would have stripped Byakuya of the clan leader privilege. After he had won, he had sworn to finally follow the rules. Act responsibly.

Still, the haori felt heavy on his shoulders, only adding to the weight of the kenseikan. He hardly recognised himself in the mirror.

“Look at you,” came an amused voice from behind him and Byakuya turned around to find Shiba Kaien in the door. “Seems like it was only yesterday that I beat a cocky noble heir in a training match.”

Byakuya merely scowled. He didn’t like to be reminded of his own miscalculations.

“Just kidding. That haori suits you. I never doubted you would make captain in record time. If not for Ichimaru-taichou, you’d be the youngest even.” Kaien smiled and closed the door behind him.

“Thank you, I suppose.” Byakuya inclined his head and looked at the clock on the wall. The ceremony would start soon.

“Everyone is excited already. Oji-san can’t wait to open the first bottle of sake for the celebrations.” Kaien chuckled and leaned with his hip against the wall. 

Byakuya remembered Shiba-taichou’s fondness for sake, only rivalled by his vice-captain and Kyouraku-taichou himself. He had already decided he wouldn’t be lingering around after the formal ceremony. 

“I can imagine,” he answered and reached for the scarf his grandfather used to wear.

“Let me,” Kaien said and took the pristine white material from his hands, winding it around Byakuya’s neck.

Byakuya let him proceed. It was a bad idea, as usual, but Shiba Kaien still slipped through his defences, still sparked that strange energy between them. Byakuya had never managed to shake it off, not even when he had been married. His feelings for Hisana and Kaien were so different, they had kept coexisting. Kaien gave him a sense of thrill, excitement, not knowing what was about to happen. Being with Hisana had been gentle and calm, a tender companionship without the youthful passion.

Not that he and Kaien had ever acted upon it, save for the embarrassing encounter during the New Year’s celebrations. The memory still made him cringe.

Kaien held onto the ends of the scarf, eyes resting on Byakuya. They remained motionless for a few seconds before Kaien tugged at the ends, bringing Byakuya close enough to kiss him.

It was like in Byakuya’s alcohol-addled memory. And it still hurt. Byakuya drew back before he could get lost in it and they both ended up doing something they would regret.

They should have talked about it years ago. But talking about it would have required admitting several unpleasant truths -- how doomed anything between them was. That it wasn’t meant to be. But as long as they didn’t talk about these things, they weren’t real. Reality was the biggest threat to the elusive phenomenon between them. And Byakuya felt reluctant to let go, no matter how much it hurt.

“Anyway...congratulations,” Kaien said and smiled, letting go of the scarf. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes, but Byakuya knew he understood. They had let their chances pass -- which had certainly been for the best -- and now it was too late. 

Byakuya inclined his head once more, not knowing what to say. It would all sound hollow. His heart ached and he wondered if Kaien felt it too, sometimes, despite being married. But it wasn’t a question one asked.

Nor did the answer matter.

* * *

“It’s not right, Byakuya. Rukia is good enough to be a seated officer.”

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to accomplish, Shiba-fukutaichou. My request has been approved by Ukitake-taichou.”

“Don’t ‘Shiba-fukutaichou’ me just because you don’t like what I’m saying.” Kaien said, banging his fist on Byakuya’s desk for emphasis, rattling the pot of ink on it.

“I suggest you take a closer look at our positions. I don’t have to justify myself to you. It’s a private matter between Ukitake-taichou and myself, and you have no right to question your superior’s decision. My sister is none of your concern.” Byakuya’s voice was nearly glacial.

“She’s serving under my command, that makes her my ‘concern’. You’re wasting her talent and she thinks she’s an embarrassment to the family, because she can’t achieve a seated position. One of these days, she’s going to do something reckless just to prove herself to you.”

Byakuya clenched his jaw, trying to push the potential images out of his mind. Of course he had thought about the possibility himself. Hindering Rukia from climbing the ranks without her knowledge could very well lead to her trying even harder. Rukia was stubborn, but usually held enough respect for the chain of command that she wouldn’t disregard an order from a superior. Maybe he couldn’t keep her from a seated position forever, but he would try as long as he could get away with it. It was one way to ensure her safety.

Kaien, who had stood on the other side of the desk with his arms crossed let them fall to the side and sighed.

“Look, I get it. You don’t want anything happening to her. But how about you talk to her for a change? She would probably understand -- it’s obvious she idolises you, despite your attitude towards her. Tell her about Hisana -- the truth. I don’t believe for a second it’s a coincidence Rukia looks like her.”

Kaien had reached for Byakuya’s hand and taken hold of it. Byakuya had indulged in the touch for a few seconds; until Kaien mentioned Hisana and Byakuya’s vision blanked. He tore his hand away.

“Leave. And don’t you dare tell Rukia anything,” he hissed and turned his back on Kaien, staring out of the window onto the grounds of the Sixth Division currently soaked in rain. The trees bowed in the harsh winds, scattering leaves on the damp grass.

Behind him, Kaien sighed. “All right. It’s your decision.”

Byakuya heard Kaien’s footsteps moving towards the doors of his office and fought the urge to look back at the other. It was one of the rare occasions that he wished for a glass of _shôchû_ to ease his mind.

At the door, the steps halted for a moment, as if Kaien had thought of something he still had to say. Byakuya wished he would just leave, but Kaien spoke just as he had finished the thought: 

“I’ll look after her, Byakuya. I won’t let any harm come to her and if it’s the last thing I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> (1) denka: royal name suffix, roughly translates to “your highness”  
> (2) uwagi: top part of a training outfit, in English also incorrectly known as gi.  
> (3) onigiri: rice balls, a Japanese snack often filled with different savoury ingredients  
> (4) umeboshi: a pickled plum/apricot. Very sour and salty, often used as a filling in onigiri  
> (5) kimchi: fermented, spicy cabbage originally from Korea.  
> (3) wakizashi: a samurai sword, shorter than the standard katana. Ichimaru Gin's zanpakutou resembles a wakizashi  
> (4) oji-san: Uncle  
> (5) shôchû: Japanese liquor, often made from sweet potatoes


End file.
